


Like Real People Do

by LadyFogg



Series: Constantine Oneshots & Prompts [12]
Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV), Hellblazer
Genre: Comfort, Couch Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Language, Making Love, Oral Sex, Sex, Smut, Sweet, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:03:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: Worried for John’s safety after a series of cryptic texts, you are relieved when he shows up on your doorstep, unharmed. You take him in and give him all the support he needs, only to learn he has feelings for you.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #13 combines the last of my prompts which were John being sort of in love with the shy Reader, and lazy rainy day sex. I told you I would make it up to you after the last prompt fic. Also the job John refers to comes from Hellblazer Issue #27: Hold Me. It’s one of my favorites and one I wished we could have seen in an episode. Enjoy!
> 
> Fic Song: https://play.spotify.com/track/7w9qIugZIij4NGIBmNpp3P

 

It’s raining again. 

You sit at the window, watching the drops trickle down the glass. All you can hear are the raindrops on the roof and the sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace. In your lap is a book you’ve long since abandoned, your phone laying on top of the yellowed pages. The screen is lit, the last texts from John still up, even though you’ve read them a hundred times already:

_ Job getting dodgy. Dunno what’s gonna happen. Take care of yourself. _

That was hours ago. You had tried calling, but got no answer. You’ve known John for years and never once has he texted you; he always calls. Or just shows up out of the blue. There have been plenty of jobs you’ve helped him with. Anytime he needs specials herbs for casting or potions, he comes to you. You’ve even patched him up once or twice after a rough case. But usually his visits are calm and enjoyable. 

Which makes his texts even more troubling. 

A car coming down the street catches your eye and the book slides off your lap as you sit up. You’re on your feet and out the door as soon as the taxi pulls up in front of your house. 

The rain is coming down hard, but neither you nor John notice. He slowly gets out of the cab, grimacing around his cigarette. Stepping onto your walkway, he pauses to stare at you. He takes one last drag before letting his smoke fall to the ground, crushing it with his shoe. 

You stop as well, relieved he is unharmed. At least he seems to be. There’s a moment where both of you just stare at each other, until you can’t stand it anymore and run to him, throwing your arms around his neck. He drops his bag and wraps his arms around your waist, holding you in a tight hug. 

“Thank god! I was so worried!”

“M’alright, love,” he says, voice low and gruff. He places a kiss on your temple, nuzzling your hair briefly. He pulls away to look at you and it’s then that you notice bruising on his face. 

The rain is freezing and by now you're both drenched. A strong gust of wind nearly pushes you into John and you shiver. 

“Let’s get you inside and into some dry clothes, okay?” you suggest, picking up his bag for him. 

John nods mutely, waving Chas off while he slides his arm around your shoulders. 

Once inside, he kicks out of his shoes and peels his wet trench coat off, hanging it on the hook by the door. You leave the entryway to place his bag by the couch. While he takes a moment to collect himself, you feed a few more logs onto the fire. 

Despite the heat radiating from the hearth, you feel a cold shiver run down your spine. Frowning, you gently place the poker down and stand, sensing the energy in the house shift. It feels off; you don’t like it. John's hair is plastered to his forehead and he runs a hand through it to push it back as he walks into the living room.

He looks pale and you notice he’s shivering. Silently, you take his hand and lead him into the kitchen. He comes willingly, squeezing your fingers. 

“Do you want tea or something hot to warm up?” you ask, letting his hand slip from yours so you can grab the kettle. 

He doesn’t let you get far however, grabbing for your hand as if he’s afraid you’re going to disappear. You stop and turn, concerned by the gesture. 

“Just, hold me a moment, yeah?” he asks. 

Worried by his tone and overall demeanor, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into another tight embrace. No matter how bad jobs have gotten for him before, he's never asked you to hold him. In the past he's just wanted a stiff drink and for you to bore him with what's been going on in your life. Well, he insists you're not boring, but by comparison you don't live an exciting life like he does.

Regardless, this job must have been terrible for him to be so shaken up.

John’s arms are like a vice around you, and he rests his forehead on your shoulder. He’s still soaking wet and, for some reason, he smells terrible. But you hold him anyways, hoping your body heat will stop him from shivering. 

“What happened, John?” you ask softly. 

“A spirit,” John answers. “Was terrorizing an apartment complex. Killed a woman...a mother..."

"The child...?"

"She's safe," John reassures you. "Left her with a neighbor."

"Did you figure out who the spirit was?" you ask.

John sighs, lifting his face to bury in your wet hair. "It turns out the blighter was a homeless man," he explains. "Snuck into an empty flat and froze to death.” 

You hold John tighter. Hunting is not something you could ever do, you don’t have the stomach for it. But you’ve helped plenty of hunters and the stories they tell always cut deep. “How did you manage to free him?”

John draws back, offering you a sad smile. “Would you believe I hugged him?” he asks. “Bloke just wanted to feel human warmth for a change.” He strokes your cheek, and you notice what you mistook for bruises is actually dirt. He wrinkles his nose. “Bloody hell, I smell foul.” 

You giggle, breaking contact. “Why don’t you jump in the shower and I’ll throw your clothes in the wash?” you suggest, walking to the pantry. You open the doors and get to work starting the washing machine. 

John strips down to nothing right there in the middle of the kitchen and you fight your blush as he hands you his clothes. He still notices of course, smirking as you duck your head. 

“Bathroom’s through my room,” you mumble, motioning to the door off the kitchen. Part of you wants to look so bad, but you resist the urge.

“Thanks, love,” John says, moving in the direction you’re pointing, making sure to ever so lightly brush up against you. 

His hand briefly lands on your lower back and he leans in to place a small kiss on your cheek. You don't realize you're holding your breath until your head starts to spin. Or maybe that's from John touching you. Either way your body reacts unexpectedly.

As he walks away, you sneak a glance and are rewarded with a wonderful view of John’s backside. It's so round and firm, you want to pinch it just to see what he'd do, if you were brave enough of course. He disappears into your room and you’re forced to refocus. 

With his clothes in the wash, you set about grabbing your sage and cleansing your house. The energy shift when he arrived must be residual from the spirit. Burning the sage, you slowly walk through the kitchen and into the living room, speaking your cleansing incantation in a low voice. The longer the sage burns, the more you feel at ease. You end your task in the entryway, making sure to spend some extra time around John’s trench coat. 

Once you’re satisfied the energy is back to normal, you leave the sage to burn in the container on the mantle. Next, you go into your room to look for something for John to wear. The only thing you have is a pair of boxers you sometimes sleep in. They’ll have to do. You’re just placing them on the bed when John steps out of the bathroom. His skin is pink and glistening, a towel hanging low on his hips. 

“Feel better?” you ask. 

John smiles, leaning one shoulder on the doorframe. “Aye. Smell better too I imagine.” 

You laugh softly. “There are some boxers here for you," you tell him. "I cleansed the house, so no more leftover spirit energy. Are you hungry?” 

“M’fine for now,” John says, crossing to you. He comes to a stop so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body. You think he’s going to hug you again, but instead he reaches for the boxers. His towel slips onto the floor, and you quickly turn your head to avoid seeing anything. 

“You’re pretty when you blush,” John teases, fingers poking your cheek. 

“Shut up,” you mutter, swatting his hand away. 

John chuckles and a moment later says, “Alright, I’m all covered up. You can look.” 

Not entirely believing him, you slowly peek over. He is indeed covered, however you’re distracted by the expression on his face. His eyes are soft and he’s looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time. You’ve seen that look before. Every time he’s at the bar and someone catches his eye. Every time he’s left with that person on his arm. It's his gaze of intent; it means he's going to make a move.

You've never been on the receiving end.

John takes a step forward, closing the little distance between your bodies. His gaze strays to your lips and he slowly leans in. At the last second, he hesitates, mouth hovering over yours, silently asking for permission to continue.

You swallow thickly, breath mingling together. Paralyzed, you stare at John with wide, questioning eyes. He inhales sharply, and completes the kiss, pressing his lips to yours. 

A myriad of feelings wash over you, all overwhelmingly positive, though you’re frozen in place. It is probably the most innocent kiss either of you has ever had. Just a simple press of puckered lips has never sent a shot of heat straight to your very core, butterflies exploding in your stomach. When he draws back, you let out a shaky breath and lunge at him. With a hand on the back of his neck and one on his hip, you pull him flush against you, moaning the second his tongue slips into your mouth to stroke yours. 

John takes your face in his hands, pushing until you hit the wall. He practically consumes your mouth, nipping and biting your bottom lip excitedly. You bury your fingers in his hair, gripping the wet locks to keep him in place. The rational part of your brain eventually kicks in and you reluctantly break the kiss. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you gasp, forehead resting on his. “Where is this coming from?”

“Thought it was obvious, love,” John says, diving in for more. 

Your response is cut off by his mouth and you have to place a hand on his chest to gently push him back. Panting as if you've just run a marathon, you both take a moment to breathe.

“I know you’re shaken and in shock,” you say, trying to keep your tone soft. “But if this is just because I’m here…” 

“It’s not,” John interrupts firmly. “This is me, wanting you.” 

“Yeah, I can tell,” you say. The hardness pressing into your thigh is evident and tantalizing. “I’m more concerned with why you suddenly want me.” 

“Trust me, love, it’s not sudden,” John assures you. “Been fancying you for quite some time.” 

“Wait...what?” 

“Come on, you’re telling me you didn’t notice?” John questions. 

“No, not at all!” you say. “We’ve been alone so many times...you’ve never made a move.” 

“Been pretty flirty though,” John points out. 

“John, you flirt with everyone.” 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” he admits with a smirk. “But made it a point to be extra flirty with you. Honestly, love, there were plenty of times I wanted to bloody grab you and kiss you.” 

“So, why not just do it? In all these years, I’ve never known you to be shy when it comes to putting the moves on someone,” you say. 

“But you aren't just someone,” John says. “Didn’t want to scare you off.” 

“I’m not scared,” you deny.

“No, but you’re blushing like mad,” John chuckles. 

You are and you hate yourself for it. John takes a chance and swoops in for another kiss. It’s just as passionate, except this time his tongue relentlessly strokes yours. You try to pull away to speak, which is difficult when he chases you for more, almost as if he can’t get enough.

“John, John, hold on,” you plead between kisses, forcing him to stop. He’s panting slightly, pupils dilated and bare chest heaving. “I can’t do this with you if all you want is a casual fling. If this is a one time deal, that’s not for me. You know that. And it will kill me if that’s what this will be to you.” 

John sighs, smoothing your hair back from your face. It’s still damp from the rain, as is your dress you have yet to change out of. 

“I know that. Love, I’m a bloody mess,” he says. “But I know what I feel, and when things were looking bad, all I could think about was you and how I was a bloody fool not to tell you how much you mean to me.” You duck your head, unable to meet his eye, but he tilts your chin up so you can’t hide. “If this happens, it won’t be a one night stand. Not with you. Couldn’t even if I wanted to.” 

“That’s a bold statement," you say. "And incredibly out of character for you."

“It’s the truth,” John says. “I’m not lying.” 

“You lie all the time!” you exclaim. 

John winces, considering your words. “My track record is working against me, ey?”

“Yeah pretty much.” 

John chuckles, drawing your hand up to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Let me prove it to you then,” he says softly, eyes hooded and filled with promise. 

You swallow past the lump in your throat, and after a second of silent debate, you nod. Grinning excitedly, John leads you over to the bed. When he kisses you this time, you don’t stop him. With a warm hand on your hip, he pulls you flush against him, turning so the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. John’s hands start to tug on your dress and you part so you can pull the garment up over your head. It falls to the floor and John makes a noise of excitement when he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra or panties. 

“You’ve been starkers underneath there this whole time?!” he exclaims. 

“Oh...yeah. I usually am when I’m home,” you say, cheeks burning. 

John stares, wide-eyed. “You mean to tell me, that all these years you’ve greeted me without a stitch on under your dresses?" he laments, reaching for you. 

Rough hands glide along smooth skin, savoring every bit he can touch. A hungry mouth finds yours before he gently pushes you onto the bed. You lay back as he straightens his stance and pushes the boxers down his hips. This time you don’t look away. He's already half-hard, his long cock jutting out from dark blond curls. You ache to run your lips along him, wondering how he would feel in your mouth.

John is too busy taking in the sight of you spread out before him to notice your scrutiny. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. Stepping out of his only piece of clothing, he climbs onto the bed, laying his body over yours. The heat radiating off of him feels wonderful, a stark contrast to when he first arrived.

You runs your hands up his arms, bringing him down into a kiss. John lowers himself onto you and a shiver of excitement passes through your body. The groan it coaxes out of him thrills you more than you thought it would. 

His hand moves to grip your thigh, spreading your legs. You wrap them around his waist, bringing your middles together so his cock slides along your slit. John swears, kissing his way along your neck. 

“You feel magnificent, love,” he grunts, rutting against you. “I want to make you feel good. Can I taste you?”

You whimper with a nod. John moves down your body, lips tasting and nipping the path excitedly. Sliding your legs onto his shoulders, John settles between them. The first swipe of his tongue is tentative, more of a teaser than anything else. You force yourself to relax, despite the nervous bubbling in your stomach. His tongue and lips soon dance expertly along your folds, the low rumbling of a growl coming from deep within his chest. 

One of your hands slides into his hair again. His hand finds your other one and he links his fingers with yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze. Your hips start to move on their own, rising to meet his mouth. It's like liquid heat is surging through your veins. John is tasting every fold and seam, like he's trying to mentally map your body. His tongue swirls around your clit, making you gasp loudly. 

Cheeks practically burning, you drag your eyes open to find him already watching intently. The way he stares at you; it's like you're the most beautiful creature in the world.

"Bloody hell, you’re a gorgeous sight,” he groans. 

That job really did a number on him. The thought makes your heart ache in your chest, right before it slams against your ribcage. His tongue dips inside you and you double over, hands and thighs gripping his head.

“John," you moan. "John, make love to me.” 

John freezes, thrown by the request. Or maybe he’s thrown by how firm you sound. Either way, he lifts his head to stare at you. Too nervous to say anything, you purse your lips together, waiting for a response. 

John calmly pushes your legs off his shoulders, crawling up so he’s eye level with you. “Make love, huh?”

You frown and sit up, forcing him to back away. “Do you have an issue with that?”

“Hardly,” John says. “It’s just...it’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone.” 

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “You? Having a dry spell?”

John chuckles as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “No, nothing like that,” he says. “Been fucking plenty of people.” You roll your eyes as he moves in close. “But haven’t cared about them. Not the way I do for you, at least. And after all this time, I don’t want to bollocks it up.”

“Well, one way to make sure you don’t mess it up would be to not bring up the numerous lays you’ve apparently been having,” you tell him. 

John winces. “Right, probably not the smartest thing I could’a said,” he admits. 

You smile and reach up to smooth down his unruly hair. “Yeah, that was dumb,” you tease. “But hey, at least you’re cute.” 

John scoffs. “Cute?” he asks. “Sexy, yes. Gorgeous, obviously. Handsome, well just look at me, love. But cute?”

“I stand by it.”

Suddenly his fingers are digging into your sides and he’s tickling you fiercely. Arousal momentarily forgotten, you’re sent into a fit of laughter. Trying to push his hands away, you wiggle out from under him, scrambling for the edge of the bed. 

“Stop! You know how ticklish I am!” you exclaim. 

John’s smile widens and his gaze turns predatory. “Oh, I know.” 

Before he can seize you, you take off running. John gleefully gives chase, following you out of the bedroom. Your laughter echoes through the house as you both run through the kitchen and into the living room. There, he easily catches up, his arms coming around your waist. You squeal as he gently tosses you onto the couch. He’s on you instantly, but this time it’s with more kisses. 

Both still laughing and grinning, you heatedly make out as he settles himself on top of you once more. It's warm on the couch and the room smells like sage and fire, two of your favorite scents. John breaks the kiss, reaching for the floor as he feels around for his bag. He manages to drag it it over while you place open mouth kisses along his shoulder and up his neck. He groans when you teasingly press your teeth into his skin.

Condom in hand, John sits back on his heels, smiling down at you. He looks so much better than when he first arrived. The haunted look is gone, replaced with eager excitement. He places the condom next to him, freeing his hands to run them up your body, cupping your breasts.

“Wanted this for so long,” he tells you. 

Smiling shyly, you stretch into his touch and his thumbs drag across your nipples. They stiffen into small peaks, and John leans down to wrap his lips around one. He sucks enthusiastically, and you can’t help but cradle him close. 

It's like he's worshipping you. One hand massages a breast while the his mouth kisses, suckles and nips at the other breast. When he switches you bite your lip, torn between wanting things to progress and wanting his special attention to continue.

His eyes never leave yours, even as he sits up to carefully roll the condom on. This time when crawls on top of you, the head of his cock nudges your slit, parting your swollen lips with purpose. 

You bring him into a kiss, pressing your knees into his sides in encouragement. With his hands braced on the couch, John works himself into you with slow, shallow thrusts. Your mouths are practically glued together, John sucking greedily on your tongue. His thrusts eventually become deeper, but the pace remains slow and steady. 

This feeling is incredibly new to you. Yes, you’ve had sex, but this feels like something else entirely. It’s not just two people trying to feel passion. It’s two individual souls connecting into one. He buries his cock all the way to the hilt, and it’s like two puzzle pieces that were made for each other. You have no idea if John feels the same way, but judging by the utter fascination in his eyes, it’s a safe bet that he does. 

You cling to John as hard as you can, clenching around him. He groans, hand coming off the couch to clutch your thigh, forcing your legs around his waist. The way he grinds against you, hips dipping low so he buries himself completely with each movement, it’s all wonderful and surprisingly gentle. 

You stroke his sweaty back encouragingly, peppering kisses along his jaw. TIme is lost and the room around you melts away. Heavy breathing, the fire crackling and rain hitting the roof become mere background noises, an appropriate soundtrack to your love making. 

Eventually, John starts to move faster and your body responds, swallowing him eagerly each time he thrusts forward. 

“I can stay here forever,” you confess with a gasp as John buries his face in your neck. 

“That an invitation?” John mutters. 

Your response is cut off by a moan when he switches angles, cock hitting that special place deep inside. 

“Yes, yes it is,” you pant. Tugging on his hair, you hungrily seek another kiss. 

“Mmm, I accept,” he mutters in between kisses. 

Your body starts to tremble and you can feel your orgasm approaching. Hips meeting John’s repeatedly, you rest your cheek next to his, trying to memorize everything about that moment. His scratchy stubble, his fingers digging into your leg, his hot breath on your ear, his musky scent with only a hint of cigarette smoke, the way he fills you more than you ever thought you could be filled. It’s all wonderful and amazing and simply beautiful. 

Letting your thigh go, John slides his hand under your head to cradle you. Lifting his head a bit, his nose bumps yours in his race for more kisses. 

“I’m close,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Not yet, hold a little,” John begs, whispering just as you are. 

“Dunno if I can,” you moan, sweat making John glide against you. You throw your head back and he feasts on your neck. “Fuck, Johnny!” 

John grunts and his resolve slips, making his movements rougher. He starts to practically pound you into the cushions. 

“Almost there,” he pants. “Johnny’s almost there. Come with me, love?” 

It’s not at the same time, but it’s pretty damn close. You come hard, back arching and nails raking down his arms. John slams into you several more times, head also thrown back as his mouth goes slack and his body shudders violently. He calls your name, but you’re too busy pulling him into one last kiss to savor the sound. You don’t let go until his hips eventually slow to a stop. 

He collapses on top of you in a shaking, sweaty mass of limbs. His solid weight isn’t even trouble for you. In fact, you like being slightly squished beneath him if it means he’s going to keep cradling you close. 

Breathing heavily, John eventually draws back slightly, fixing you with a crooked smile. You return the smile, shuffling as he moves to settle next to you on the couch. He shifts and carefully takes off the condom, tying it closed and dropping it onto the floor next to his bag. Once that’s taken care of, he draws you closer, hand making light trails up and down your back. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. 

“Curse this blush,” you say when your cheeks burn. 

John gives a breathless laugh. “I like it,” he says. 

A chill sweeps through the drafty house, despite the fire. John pulls a blanket off the back of the couch, draping it over the both of you. 

“Stay as long as you need,” you tell him. “My home is your home.”

“Thanks, love,” John says, arm falling onto your waist. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

Outside, the rain continues to fall heavily, the low rumblings of thunder echoing in the distance. But inside, you’re warm and safe, cuddles with John on your plushy sofa. He smiles lovingly, but you can still see the pain he's masking.

“You’re not going to end up like him, you know,” you say. 

John gives you a curious look, until understanding dawns on him. He sighs and shrugs. “S’pose you’re right. But considering everyone I love dies or leaves, s’not that much of a stretch,” he says. 

You cuddle closer. “You have me,” you tell him. “I’ve known you for years and I’m still here.” 

John gives you a wry smile. “That’s why I held my feelings in,” he says, tweaking your nose with his finger. “Didn’t want to taint you with my curse.” 

You shake your head lovingly. “It’s fine, I have a potion for curses. We’re good.” 

John laughs, a full, deep belly laugh that makes your smile grown bigger. “Glad to hear it,” he says. “Now…” He rolls on top of you once more. “We have nowhere to go, and plenty of protection. What  _ do  _ you s’pose we do about that?”

“My legs still work, so you tell me.” 

“The horror,” John says with mock disgust. “Absolutely unacceptable.” 

Grinning, you arch into him so his hardening cock slides along your slit. “Then fix it,” you demand. 

“One love making session and you’re suddenly a bloody tease,” John comments with a groan, chasing the warm wetness.

“You haven’t seen anything yet, babe.” 

“I want to.” 

“You will, Johnny,” you promise, leaning up for a kiss. “You will.” 


End file.
